That Thing You Do
by Dizzy the Manhunter
Summary: Seventeen year old Leon returns from duty in the Armada looking for another pretty face and gets more than he bargained for.


Summer in Madrid was a magical and romantic time of year. The city was afire with color as flowers bloomed in and around the walls of its ancient buildings. Regardless of age or background, everyone fell victim to Eros' lethal arrow this time of year.

It also happened to be the season that the Hispanian Armada triumphed over the Byzantine Empire to the south. The weary soldiers had returned home for the first time in three years and received a hero's welcome.

Among the most highly decorated officers was the son of General Garcia de Asturias, young Leon. Only seventeen years old, he had already accomplished what it had taken his prestigious father years to do. He was known for his brash behavior and ruthless tactics on the battlefield. It was his reckless heroics and the support from his platoon that had saved the Armada.

"Damn, it's good to be home." Leon muttered under his ragged breath as exhaustion leaked through his voice. Despite all of the festivities, he only wanted to hook up with a cute girl and spend a quiet night in a dark restaurant. He stepped out of the car and threw his pack onto his shoulder.

"Awe, man," One of Leon's comrades stopped beside him and pointed up at the grand cathedral. "It's the Vatican. I smell a speech coming on."

"I'm not sticking around to find out." Leon grumbled; he hated fancy-to-dos and long lectures. To a young man like him, it seemed like such a waste of time.

He slipped into the crowd and searched for the lucky girl that would keep him company tonight. They all looked the same to him. Tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark hair; he opted for something different. He already knew most of the girls in Madrid anyway. He needed something more.

"What's your address?"

Leon glanced over his shoulder casually at the obvious query and spied a gaggle of soldiers surrounding a young lady under a parasol. Her back was turned to Leon, so he worked his way around the crowd to get a closer look.

"I'm sorry," she said sweetly and pushed the soldier away, "I must be going."

"Oh, so I'm not good enough for you?" One of the young men grabbed her by the arm and yanked her forward. The girl dropped her parasol and winced as he squeezed her wrist.

Leon grinned; a most splendid opportunity had dropped into his lap. He stormed into the herd of drooling boys and gripped the larger one's arm. Glaring down at the soldier, he grunted, "You heard the lady."

"Forget it, Garcia! I saw her first!" The soldier whirled around and released the girl momentarily to throw a clumsy punch toward Leon, which he easily dodged. He growled and staggered forward to swing again.

Only to be hammered in the face with the blunt, metal handle of a lacy parasol.

Leon's eyes were agape in shock as the soldier fell over into a pile of crates. He turned his attentions on the girl and chuckled.

"That'll teach you." She huffed and drew the lacy canopy over her head once more. Her blue eyes met Leon's in an instant and she smiled. "I suppose I should thank you for your kindness."

"Maybe." Leon answered with a sly grin.

She was much shorter than Leon, barely coming to his chest in height. Her small frame suggested fragility but her actions spoke otherwise. Her skin, bright and peachy, stood out against the sea of dark faces and tempted him closer.

The girl smiled awkwardly and stepped away from his line of vision. She spoke quietly, "I really have to go."

Leon pulled his sunglasses away from his eyes to rest atop his head and his grin widened. He suddenly lifted her little hand into his and pulled her forward, "Could you at least tell me your name?"

Blood pooled into the girl's cheeks as she pursed her lips and stuttered, "Charity LeClair…"

Leon's grin widened as he leaned over and whispered, "Leon Garcia de Asturias; don't forget it."

"I'm sure I won't." Charity laughed and briefly touched his stubbly chin. She picked the train of her dress up and turned towards the cathedral. "Good bye, monsieur Leon. I do hope we meet again."

"LeClair…?." Leon muttered as she disappeared into the crowd. His thoughts began to wander around into forbidden places. Thinking aloud, he groaned, "She's a nun."

He had heard of a bishop from France by the name of LeClair and that he had a daughter. Much to his dismay, this meant she was probably off limits as far as his pleasures were concerned. A dark cloud descended over his evening as he stewed over the loss of another pretty face.

She could pack a punch, too. And she didn't even dress like a nun. She also blushed when he suddenly seized her by the waist and thrust her into his embrace.

Based loosely on hormone driven perversions and his own twisted logic, Leon had rationalized his affair with the girl. He was a soldier, too, so laws of religion didn't apply to him. Only one obstacle barred his path now.

He stomped off into the roaring crowd with his shades down and his hands stuffed into his pockets. He scouted the massive gathering for the girl and happened to glance up at the cathedral.

Sure enough, she stood on the stairs beside an older man garbed in a bishop's raiment. He was in the middle of a speech. A long and terribly dull speech.

Charity didn't seem to be enjoying herself. Her eyes were downcast and her smile had soured into a frown. Heaving a sigh, her eyes rose skyward and silently begrudged the bishop's dull vernacular.

As the bishop ended his lengthy monologue, Leon stalked through the people to the base of the cathedral's stairs. He tore his glasses away from his face and stuffed them into his pocket angrily. His reputation preceded him, so he favored a bold reaction from the bishop and all present.

Leon bolted up the stairs and grabbed Charity by the hand suddenly. His face was taut with determination as he acknowledged Bishop LeClair with a nod. "Don't worry, pops, I'll have her back for the gala tonight."

Like a fell gust of wind, Leon whisked Charity into the crowd and out of sight. He could hear people yelling and charging after him. It was thrilling.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?!" Charity cried and flailed around frantically. Leon had thrown her onto his shoulder in all of the commotion. He didn't sweep her up into his arms like a gentleman. Instead, he carted her off like a sack of potatoes.

"Kidnapping you." Leon replied casually as he ran through another alley. Rounding another corner, he stopped behind a dumpster and set Charity onto the ground. He panted and peered into the streets. "I think we lost 'em."

"Have you gone mad?" Charity planted her fists into her little hips and scolded him, "What were you thinking? They're going to brand you as some kind of criminal!"

"You're calling a gentleman like me a criminal?"

The little nun frowned at his response and sighed. She didn't look convinced.

"You didn't tell me you were French, by the way." Leon slipped his arm around her waist and ushered her into the empty street. He strolled along the boulevard with a big grin plastered onto his face.

Charity quietly walked alongside him and struggled to match his giant strides. She finally stopped and tugged on his jacket, "Slow down, will you? I'm not as tall or fast as you."

Leon started with a slower gait and received a smile for his efforts. He stared off into the distance and felt Charity's fingers tighten over his arm suddenly. She rested her head against him momentarily.

A warm sensation crawled through Leon's arm as he ambled along the sidewalk with his new companion. His intimidating exterior fell to pieces as he glanced down at her. Something rumbled around in his chest like rampant thunder as Charity sighed again. He found himself grinning bashfully and laughing awkwardly.

What was it?


End file.
